Posts Tagged 'squid cannon'

I woke up today, had toast, and went to the front door to get my weekly delivery of “Recursive Gene Wilder Weekly”, there on the front door step there was a large crochety package. I brought it inside set it on the table while I got stuck into my recursive Gene Wilder gossip. Something struck me to write in a letter to the editor, but the packages angry glare not only distracted me but unsettled the toast in my gullet (the annoying thing is I still can’t remember the thing I was going to write in about, I’m going to lose Gene Wilder scene points(recursively)).

Anyway upon opening the package I was confounded by a large metallic tube with ademeanor of seafood. It wasn’t until I picked it up and 20 squids fell out that I realised that it was a Squid Cannon, needless to say I didn’t finish my toast (because it had squids on it (the toast)).

That was it, time to call Mum, about my unexpected squid cannon delivery. As always Mum answers the phone derisively with a sigh “So what has Gene Wilder got up to this week?” I said “No no no no no, I’ve been delivered a squid cannon”. She was less than excited.

There are only so many times in your life a squid cannon gets delivered to you from nowhere, like a gift from Zeus, so I thought I better try it out. I live in a tall building, level 10, so I was pretty sure I could get away with shooting it out into the city out at various interesting targets, without people noticing where these flying-airbourne squids were coming from.

I would have felt bad about it… but it already came with 20 predead squid-bullets (even if I was being optimistic, I don’t think I could have eaten even five of the squids before they went bad, they were quite large, and aerodynamic) and when it comes down to it, worst case a little bit of squid to the face never hurt anyone.

So I’ve shot a few squids around my apartment (I wish I’d thought to just keep it to the bathroom, but Mum says the ink adds a nice patina and liveliness to the couch and curtains). So I’m feeling pretty confident, I decide to try something a bit more challenging and a bit more public. Plus I wanted to see what kind of range I could get on this thing.

I loaded up another squid, and aimed down at the old town hall where there was usually a large crowd of people (why not share my squid joy with as many people as possible?). As I was looking through the sight of the squid cannon getting ready to fire, I noticed in the building directly across from mine – the attractive blonde girl was running on her treadmill again. To tell you about this girl is really another story, infact i could fill a dozen novels or 32 novellas (if you are in the publishing business, get in touch, squidcannonbigshot52@hotmail.com), but to cut a long story short she is wonderful and will one day be the mother of my (and her) distinguished children. I just have to come up with the right words to let her know that! If however I do find the words I would not wish them delivered via squid, as you will see, I’ve since learned that that is not her cup of tea.

Lost and swooning in my infatuation I didn’t notice my arm slowly swing around with the squid cannon to point toward this lovely girl’s apartment. I don’t remember pulling the trigger, it must have been some unconscious reaction. Before I know it, the squid had confirmed and locked in it’s projectory towards the leggy/hot/nearby blonde’s apartment homespace.

I ran inside and hid under my giant stuffed polar bear, which Mum won for me in the Ingham Regional Produce Show 1992 (in case you were wondering I was never born there, until recently). I stayed hidden beneath FROSTY for a good 20 minutes, before hearing a knock at the door.

“Hey, is that you under that _ ” (I’d forgotten to close the door in my haste to get inside to read my Gene Wilder gossip) ” _aboninable snow man?”

“Frosty is a polar bear not an abonibable snow man” I said from beneath my trusted friend and hiding spot.

Blonde girl said “Whatever, I’ve noticed you’ve beene shooting squids at people recently, and I also noticed I got punched directly in the face with a flying squid recently”

“I guess that explains all the ink”

“Yes you certainly ruined my good excercise costume”

“My Mum would say it adds liveliness and patina…”

“What does patina mean?”

“You’d have to ask my Mum, I can call her if you want…”

“No its ok. Do you want your squid back?”

“No you can have it.”

“Please don’t shoot any more squids at my house.”

“Ok.”

“I don’t mean to be rude. But you really shouldn’t be shooting squids around the neighbourhood. Its unhygienic.”

Emerging from underneath Frosty, I said “I usually have a satisfactory standard of hygiene.”

At that point we said our goodbyes. Our inevitable relationship has been set back years. The squid that could have brought us together, has only driven us apart.